?Mobile reading He Muqing agreed to help Qin Feng find the person who sent the parcel, promising to give him the latest update as soon as possible, so that he could go back and wait for news. E-book Qin Feng returned to Qin Group Headquarters, but before he even had a chance to open the door to his office, he was pulled down to the underground laboratory by Hou Bao. "Hou Uncle, I've already told you, I'm not very familiar with things like engines and transmissions. Just let Hui handle whatever you need—there's no need to involve me." He was afraid that the old man would keep pressing him about his relationship with Mei Hui. The title "future-in-law" was simply too odd. The beautiful CEO and her father-in-law had agreed that Qin Feng would continue to address Hou Bao as "Hou Uncle." Of course, it was perfectly fine to call him that a few times privately, just to give the old man a little pleasure. Hou Bao chuckled and said, "It's not about the things you're not interested in. I'm actually bringing you something—I'm sure you'll like it." Seeing the old man's mysterious air, Qin Feng shrugged, thinking to himself that his favorite thing was tucked away in his pocket—namely, the dagger, Huo Yin. Hou Bao opened a silver-white metal box with due seriousness, inside which lay a pistol whose exterior had undergone carbonization treatment. The pistol was slightly longer than the average model, especially in the fore-end of the barrel, and its grip featured a highly ergonomic design. A standard Picatinny rail was mounted on the receiver, allowing for the attachment of laser sights, tactical lights, and other accessories. "I wonder why you thought of bringing a pistol," Qin Feng said. "Didn't you know I've already been ready to say goodbye to my past life? Once I've shed my identity as a killer from the Island of Death, I no longer see a place for such weapons." After all, under the harmonious rule of the Celestial Kingdom, wasn't it forbidden for individuals to own weapons? Wasn't the old man's mind simply being kicked by a donkey, Qin Feng thought, without realizing it. Hou Bao smiled, "It's not easy to say goodbye to the past. Take your conflict with Shengmen, for instance—they won't rest easy. Without a solid weapon, you're bound to suffer a major setback." It made sense. Whether it was the incident outside the city, in the urban village, or last night's battle, having a gun clearly made a difference. He picked up the pistol. The carbon-coated surface felt exceptionally smooth, and even with a sweaty palm, the grip remained secure without compromising accuracy. The pistol was lighter than expected, indicating the use of a lot of composite materials. "Where did you get this? I've never seen anything like it," Qin Feng admired it deeply, though he hadn't yet fired it. Based on its outstanding feel and his knowledge of firearms, he was certain it was an excellent weapon. Hou Bao chuckled, "You've never seen it before—this is one I personally crafted, and it's the only one." "Really?" Qin Feng skillfully disassembled the pistol, and indeed, no serial numbers were found on any of the components. The barrel was crafted from the finest chromium-molybdenum steel, featuring finely machined rifling. The metal components such as the striking pin, spring, and hammer demonstrated excellent manufacturing quality. Other parts were made from composite materials, ensuring strength while reducing the overall weight of the weapon. The magazine itself was also composed of composite materials, eliminating concerns about insufficient spring tension that could lead to feeding issues; it holds twenty rounds of standard 9-millimeter ammunition. The 92-model pistol retrieved from the special operations unit's victim suffered from a weak magazine spring—originally rated for fifteen rounds, it only managed to load twelve—adding extra tension to the spring, which nearly cost Qin the young man's life. Hou Bao continued, "I specifically chose a longer barrel, extending one-third beyond the standard pistol length, combined with specially designed ammunition, enabling a maximum effective range of 200 meters." Qin Feng's eyes widened. A range of 200 meters—what a game-changer! Most handguns typically have a range of just 50 meters. Even the renowned Type 52, hailed as the "Great Black Star," usually performs well only up to about 60 to 70 meters. Assault rifles generally reach a range of around 150 to 200 meters. To have a single handgun achieve such a range is truly astonishing. Seeing his expression of disbelief, Hou Bao said with confidence, "You must have forgotten—I hold a PhD in physics. Here, with our well-equipped facilities, developing a high-performance handgun is nothing short of a piece of cake." The gun features a precisely engineered design, with an extended barrel and special rifling. Even when firing standard 9-millimeter bullets, it achieves an effective range of 100 meters. The bullets used are specially designed bottom-ejecting cartridges—a type commonly found in artillery shells—applied to bullets no larger than one centimeter in diameter. This is truly an innovative achievement. The cartridge features intricate engravings that enhance both range and stability. Additionally, the propellant inside the casing has been blended with several other substances, boosting thrust while simultaneously reducing muzzle flame. Beyond the basic pistol, four magazines, and four hundred rounds, the equipment includes a suppressor, a low-light scope, a laser sight, a tactical light, and an infrared rangefinder—all designed by Hou Bao. "Would you like to give it a try?" Hou Bao asked with a smile. "Of course!" Qin Feng began loading the gun with practiced ease. Hou Bao set up a paper target and pressed a button, causing the target to automatically move along a fifty-meter path. He smoothly completed the entire sequence—cocking the action, engaging the safety, raising the gun, and aiming—his hands steady, his fingers gently guiding the trigger back with each breath. Intentional aiming, unconscious firing—this is a skill every accomplished marksman must master. The bullets flew out at a roar, striking the center of the target dead center. The recoil of the pistol was rather mild, and Qin Feng adapted to it right away, continuously pressing the trigger. Boom... boom... boom boom... boom boom... boom boom boom... The rhythm grew faster and faster, until he nearly fired all the remaining rounds in one go. Hou Bao was utterly stunned—was there really someone who could shoot like this? It seemed rather too fast. In his view, even the most skilled marksmen needed some time to adjust when using a new gun. When he looked at the paper target, he was even more amazed—he couldn’t believe it! Could the bullets not have been a bit less precise? Twenty shots, all of them hitting the very center! The small black zone, no more than eight centimeters in diameter, was dotted with holes—so densely that it was almost torn apart. Qin Feng remained calm, checked the barrel to confirm it was empty, and then said, "You're truly exceptional, Hou Bo. It's a great pity that you don't work at a military-industrial enterprise." Hou Bao replied without much thought: "With your such excellent shooting skills, it's a real pity you're not a killer! How about we set up our own private killing company? I'm sure it'll be far more profitable than doing a regular business!" Qin Feng looked utterly exasperated. Could they not just leave well enough alone? After all, he'd finally escaped the Island of Death—now he was supposed to be a killer?